


Mission Accomplished

by britishsconesahoy



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Anti-Hero, Gen, Villain Protagonist (sort of), World War III, in which Arthur is a triple agent, spy AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-08 00:53:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17376419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britishsconesahoy/pseuds/britishsconesahoy
Summary: Arthur is a double agent for the MI6 after England falls into a dictatorship after WW3. His mission is to spy on the US and French governments, but things get tricky when both countries order him to kill his alias. Seeing this as a chance to liberate his country and the world, Arthur sets out on a dangerous path towards his mission, and will stop at nothing until it's accomplished.





	1. Chapter 1

If you would have told him five years ago that his country would soon turn into a dictatorship, he probably would have laughed at the impossible nature of it. He would have said that a strong, civilized nation like his own could never fall into the trap of allowing a tyrannical lunatic to completely take over the country and win everyone's trust and loyalty. He would call it ridiculous, preposterous, unrealistic, anything except possible.

And yet, five years later, here he was standing before his beloved country's new leader, a dictator in every way, shape, and form. The awful stench of corruption and greed radiated off the man sitting behind the large, finely crafted wooden desk, making him want to hold his nose to avoid smelling that revolting aroma wafting through the luxurious office.

As he stood in front of the man who all his hatred was directed towards, he had to use all his willpower to maintain the neutral, yet obedient expression which everyone seemed to adorn. The little internal strength he had left was working with full force to keep his hand from reaching towards the gun in his jacket pocket, as an attempt to shoot dead the embodiment of tyranny that unfortunately sat before him.

"I'll be honest with you," the dictator began, an indecipherable grin forming on his countenance. "I didn't expect you to get here so quickly. I am impressed."

"I try to do only my best, sir." The words easily slipped out of his mouth, as if they were just waiting to be used. He had spoken them so many times that it was as if they had just begun to form on their own.

"I can definitely see that." The dictator continued. "It's no wonder that you are the top agent at the MI6. I have no regrets in assigning this mission to you."

"It's my pleasure to be of service to you, sir." The words slipped out almost as easily as before, leaving a sour taste of irony in its haste.

"It's Arthur now, isn't it?"

"Yes." He replied, pulling out his fake American passport. "I have just arrived back from the United States, so I've been using my American alias, Arthur Kirkland."

"Very good," the dictator's words were so transparent that Arthur could see right through them. "but before you inform me on what information you've come across, I'd like to introduce you to someone."

It was only at this mention did Arthur finally notice the unfamiliar figure standing silently at the dictator's side, an air of confidence surrounding him of which could only belong to a man of high military ranking. His still, perfect posture emphasized the well-built form beneath the creaseless uniform he donned. His face revealed no expression, and his sharp blue eyes held no signs of either life or emotion. It was a perfect mask, almost too perfect to be worn by someone with nothing to hide.

"Arthur, I'd like to introduce to you General Ludwig Beilschmidt, my top general and commander of the English Armed Forces."

Arthur turned his gaze slightly to meet the eyes of the military commander. From what he had heard, Ludwig had been the former commander of the German military, but when his country had fallen into anarchy after the Third World War, he had fled to England to serve its new leader. For what purpose, Arthur had no idea.

"It's an honor to meet you, General Beilschmidt."

"The same to you, agent Arthur Kirkland." The general replied, his expression never changing. "I've been told by our dear leader that you are involved in a mission that will finally relieve the Republic of England of the constant military and diplomatic interferences by the United States and France, as well as their allies."

Arthur internally cringed at hearing him so casually use the new name of his country, but he was determined not to let it show. "That is correct, sir."

"May I hear the details?" Ludwig asked, though it was obvious that the question was addressed to their superior.

"That's why I ordered you here," The dictator clarified. "because if this mission is successful, which I very much believe it will be, we may have to prepare ourselves for an attack."

"You mean an invasion?"

"Precisely, as that is the ultimate goal."

The dictator didn't elaborate on the reasoning behind this goal, and his two subordinates knew better than to voice their questions regarding the subject. Instead, they both remained silent and waited for their leader to continue.

"There have been rumors that the United States and France are planning some sort of invasion as an attempt to overthrow our nation's government." The dictator said gravely.

While pretending to appear focused on the dictator's words, Arthur snuck a quick glance at the two men's serious expressions. They both mirrored his own, the only difference being that his was just a facade. Underneath that constructed mask of loyalty and patriotism, Arthur was smirking. His oppressor's enemies were finally taking a stand against his reign of tyranny. There was now hope that these walls of corruption would come crashing down. A light had finally appeared at the end of the tunnel.

"In order to prevent this from happening," the dictator went on. "we needed to know what they were planning. So, our main objective was to have Arthur infiltrate the American CIA and the French DGSE to seek out any information about their military plans against us."

The smirk on Arthur's face then vanished, and the light in the distance burned out. All that hope disappeared in one single second, as Arthur was forced to come to terms with the fact that he was the one responsible for destroying that chance of liberation. He was the obstacle standing in the way of his beloved country's freedom.

"Pardon me, sir, but this seems to me to be a very difficult, and rather dangerous mission." Ludwig asked upon hearing the basis for the mission. "How ever did you pull that off?"

The dictator turned to Ludwig with a malicious grin plastered on his venemous face, making it even harder for Arthur to hold back his hand from reaching towards his gun. Every minute that passed while being in the monster's presence only strengthened the temptation, and Arthur was now using all his willpower to resist it.

"Why you are precisely correct, as this is a very dangerous mission, though I think we went about it very well. We got information that the French had sent a spy to infiltrate the American government on their military plans, though we're not sure why because we have other sources that say they're working together. Strangely enough, we got the same information that the French had done the same thing, just vice versa.

"Once we were sure that they were prepared to take action against each other's spies, we sent in Arthur. We gave him an American alias and fake identity as Arthur Kirkland, and then he applied to the CIA saying that he had information on the French spy and was willing to help in their investigation. We then gave him a French alias, Oliver Langlais, and he did the same thing to them."

The conversation between the dictator and the general continued, but none of what they said ever reached Arthur's ears. All he could hear was the past, as memories of an almost forgotten life began to blur his vision, blocking out all his present surroundings. He watched as the dark sky of dictatorship and oppression disappeared and a clear, bright sky of democracy and peace took its place. He gazed up at the sky in his memories with a look of longing, as the last time he had seen it was before the war.

Five years was all it took. In that short amount of time, the land he had once called home had been transformed into a place of unfamiliarity and coldness. No remnants remained of his former home, as they were all destroyed by the flames of war that had ripped through his country's strong walls of peace and democracy, and in their stead they left a fully ignited fire of tyranny that had consumed the burnt nation in one single sweep.

The sky in his memories would remain as just that: an image of the past. Never again would he see it in real life, and it was all because of his mission. His mission's whole purpose was to prevent his dreams from becoming a reality, but he didn't blame himself. The responsibility lied on the very man who had assigned the mission, the same man who had taken away his country's independence and freedom.

"Arthur?"

The voice speaking his name cut through his surroundings of reconstructed memories, ultimately bringing him back to the grim reality he was living. The theif guilty of robbing his country of its liberty still sat in front of him with a look of false innocence on his masked face, as if to say that he wasn't guilty of the crime which Arthur had accused him of.

"Yes, sir?" Arthur asked, as he quickly fell back into the role of a loyal agent, ready at all times to serve his master.

"You said that you found out some vital information while undercover." The man behind the desk said. "Care to tell us what it was?"

Arthur hesitated for a moment as he took in the scene of the dictator and his general staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. What he had told them was true, as he definitely had information that would be deemed as important for his leader's ambitions, but was revealing it really the right thing to do? Giving over the information to his greatest enemy was an outright act of betrayal for someone who called himself a loyal English citizen.

But what other choice did he have? If he held back from speaking the truth then he would be putting his life at risk for treason. Was it really worth it to try and overthrow his own government from the inside, especially if it was almost impossible to succeed?

Of course not. He was in no position to act out against the monster that lead his country to shambles and ruins. He may be a good spy, but attempting to take down the walls of corruption that surrounded him was a mission that even he couldn't accomplish. All he could do was proceed with the dictator's plans, and simply hand him over the information that he so desired.

"The United States and France have been discussing their plans for an invasion of our country." Arthur said as quickly and bluntly as he could. "They have a date set for the fifth of June."

"It's the twenty-seventh of April now." Ludwig commented.

"Yes," Arthur continued. "and they plan on starting with an attack on the southwest of the country by sea and air. I'm afraid that is all I have so far, sir."

Upon finishing his report, Arthur looked away from his superior as a taste of disgust entered his mouth. The words he had just forcefully spat out had tasted like some spoiled, moldy substance gluing itself to his tongue and refusing to let go.

"I commend you for your outstanding performance, Arthur." The dictator praised, but Arthur didn't look up. He wasn't one to be fooled by the monster's cunning words. He wasn't going to earn his loyalty so easily. "You've provided us with some very essential pieces of information. You've done your job well. Whatever motivated you to take this mission so seriously?"

The question caught him a bit off guard, but he then immediately realized what it was that the dictator was looking for. He was expecting something along the lines of undivided loyalty and patriotism, but Arthur knew full well that that wasn't what motivated him at all.

No, it was more of a simple philosophy that Arthur had held to ever since he joined the MI6 and began his career as a secret agent.

"A good agent never leaves a mission unaccomplished." Arthur replied as if it were a proclamation as opposed to a simple answer to his leader's insignificant question.

As he said that familiar phrase, it only became more clear to him that taking on his nation's tormentor alone was not something he could achieve, and therefore was not a mission that he could commit himself to. In his entire career, Arthur had never failed in a mission, and he wasn't willing to change that now. His only option was to hope and pray that his theoretical enemies would be able to counteract his attacks, and accomplish the mission that they had set to complete.


	2. Chapter 2

"Arthur, where were you for the past few days?"

Arthur ignored the question as he took a seat at an empty table, placing his books quietly on the surface in front of him so as not to disturb the other students scattered around the library. The precaution, though, was unnecessary because he had chosen to sit at the very back of the vast room, as an attempt to keep the distance between himself and everyone else.

"Why don't you answer me? You can tell me."

Arthur sighed as he watched his brown haired, blue eyed companion follow his lead and sit himself down in the vacant chair beside him, despite the presence of dozens of other empty chairs around the room. His wish for solitude would not be granted.

"I already told you, Alfred," Arthur replied as he tried to hide the irritation in his voice. "I was away working on a mission."

"Yeah, I know  _that_." Alfred said, propping his feet up on the table. Arthur groaned and immediately pushed his books to the side before the American's dirt covered shoes could touch them. "I figured that's what you were up to, but  _where_ exactly were you? What were you  _working_  on?"

"As if I would tell you." Arthur muttered as he began to place the books back into the safety of his bag. If he wanted to avoid conversations like this, then remaining on campus was out of the question.

It wasn't that he disliked Alfred, it was just that his constant attempts at creating some sort of trusting friendship between them was not something Arthur wanted to agree to. While it was true that they both studied at the same college to hide their secret positions at the CIA, they had nothing else to do with each other, and Arthur wished to keep it that way. He was there to complete his mission, nothing more and nothing less.

"Hey, where are you going?"

Arthur didn't look up as he continued to put his books back into the bag. "Away. I'm not gonna stay here if all you're gonna do is nag me about the details of my mission."

"Oh, come on, Arthur. We're accomplices, sort of, friends even!"

Arthur froze as he was about to place the last book into the bag. "Friends?"

"Yeah, we're friends, right?"

Arthur stood up from his crouched position, the book still in his hands. Slowly, he turned to face Alfred who was still laying back in his chair.

"How does being my friend make you exempt?"

Arthur watched as Alfred looked away from him with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Well, friends are supposed to trust each other, aren't they? Since I'm your friend, you can trust me and tell me what your mission is." He paused and then added with a smirk, "I promise I'll tell you mine."

But Arthur did not care what Alfred's mission was. "Why do you want to know so badly, anyway?"

"Because you're my friend!"

Arthur sighed and dropped his remaining book back on the table despite his previous behavior of acting in a quiet fashion. Arthur knew they weren't in a professional setting at the moment, but Alfred's casual attitude was beginning to irritate him. They were spies, not friends. What part of that did Alfred not get?

Ever since he had met Alfred, Arthur had never been able to figure out why the man was so adamant on befriending him. Arthur was positive that there was nothing about his fake identity that could come off as friendly, as he had purposely gave his alias a cold and distant personality so he could avoid any unwanted company sticking their nose into his business.

There was no place for trust in Arthur's life, as he lived in the world of a dictatorship: a world where no one could be trusted. It was a world of secrets and lies because those were the only things that could keep that kind of world alive. Arthur knew that was the only way to complete his mission, and therefore he was willing to play by those rules.

"Alfred, you barely know anything about me." Arthur said as he reluctantly sat down again next to Alfred. "And everything you do know is just apart of my fake identity."

Alfred then suddenly moved his feet down from the table and sat up in his chair, signifying that he was taking this conversation seriously.

"I know, but you only know my fake identity too. But that doesn't matter because I don't want to be friends with Arthur the spy, I want to be friends with Arthur the person."

Alfred's reasoning did not seem to justify his actions according to Arthur. He still could not understand how his fellow spy could be so careless when it came to an issue of trust.

"Alfred, I think you're too generous." Arthur said while not missing the confused look Alfred gave him. "You credit people with being too good, despite knowing that the world is full of bad people. You shouldn't be so quick to throw your trust around so blindly like that. You never know what someone might do with it. For all you know, it could get you killed."

Alfred raised an eyebrow as he gazed at Arthur, trying to understand the meaning behind his strange words. "Are you trying to suggest that you're some dangerous person who will one day kill me?"

Arthur looked over at Alfred with an amused smile. The American might have won the award for the most annoying personality, but his wild imagination never ceased to entertain him.

"No. I'm just giving you a piece of advice, Alfred. I believe you call it,  _friendly advice_?"

To Arthur's surprise, Alfred just laughed. "Oh, now I get it! You're just too paranoid, that's all. Like you think the world is out to get you or something. Seriously, dude, you need to chill out. How can we ever become true friends if you don't trust me?"

_Because we don't have to become friends._  Arthur thought to himself.  _That's not part of the mission._

"Look, can we just stop talking about this here?" Arthur asked, as his fear of someone overhearing them was growing bigger as the conversation continued. "We don't want anyone to hear us."

"Yeah, alright. Besides, Tino's coming this way."

Arthur quickly looked up to see Tino, one of their classmates, striding towards them. A wave of relief washed over him as he realized he had been able to stop the conversation just in time.

"Hey, Tino! What's up?" Alfred greeted the Finnish exchange student as he approached their table.

"Hello Alfred, Arthur." Tino said as he took a seat across from the two, much to Arthur's disappointment. "Have you two heard the news?"

Arthur's interest piqued just a bit as he continued to remain silent, allowing Alfred, the more charismatic of the two, to keep up the conversation with Tino.

"What news?"

"The German Federation just invaded Spain this morning." Tino replied.

"Again?!" Alfred asked, though Arthur didn't see the point of his question as Alfred already knew the answer.

It had only been six months since Spain had finally ended its war with the German Federation, which had been going on from the beginning of the third world war. They had managed to obtain the victory, despite only having the support of half the country, as Spanish opinion had been divided over the matter of joining the German Federation, as was the current state of most of the former independent nations of the European continent.

"I'm afraid it's true." Tino confirmed. "The wars just don't seem to end. Why does everyone want to keep fighting?"

Despite Alfred and Tino's surprised reactions, Arthur hadn't found the news that unbelievable. If anything, he expected it. And if not the German Federation, then surely some other power hungry, corrupted nation would have done the job.

"War is inevitable as long as there are corrupt leaders, Tino." Arthur said in a quiet voice. "All the dictators in this world, they're monsters that strive to obtain power as if it were their only source of oxygen. Power is the only thing that can keep their tyrannical governments alive."

Normally, Arthur wouldn't have voiced his political opinion so bluntly like he just had, but this time he had felt the need to. It was satisfying in a way, as he knew those spoken words wouldn't land him in any trouble here. He could say whatever he desired, and no foreign dictator from across the seas could stop him. It was an opportunity he just couldn't pass up.

"Geez, man, that's dark." Alfred commented, as he wasn't used to hearing this opinionated side of his comrade. "If you said that like in one of those countries, like England, you'd probably be executed by now."

Arthur couldn't help but smirk at the American's vivid imagination, though he knew it wasn't really that far from the truth. "Well, then it's a good thing I don't live there."

"Yup, sure is. I think it's crazy that they'd kill someone just because they disagree with them."

"But I still don't understand." Tino said, interrupting the lighter atmosphere of the conversation. "Why is the German Federation so adamant on taking Spain? They already pretty much have the whole continent! What does everyone want?"

"Exitium." Arthur said without a moment of hesitation.

The gravity of their former conversation suddenly returned, darkening the light atmosphere around them. He had just said one word, but it was enough to emphasize the seriousness of the matter.

"Exitium?" Tino asked, though he knew he already had a vague idea of what Arthur was referring too.

"It's the root of the world's problems." Arthur began to explain. "Its discovery five years ago is what started World War Three, after all."

"I know that." Tino said, and Arthur couldn't help but notice how Alfred kept quiet. "But why is Exitium so important? Why does everyone want it?"

"It can be used to stop nuclear missiles." Arthur answered. "Why wouldn't everyone want it?"

He would have never suspected that such a mere element would produce so much chaos amongst the nations of the world. At first, the scientific findings of Exitium brought a new kind of hope to the world, as it promised a better and brighter future. But instead, Exitium was now held accountable for throwing the world into turmoil, as everyone scrambled to lay claim to as much Exitium as they could, which had inevitably led to a war of mass destruction, and many more to follow.

"And I guess it doesn't help much that it's only found in certain places." Tino added. "Spain has a lot of Exitium, doesn't it?"

"Yes." Arthur said, though he didn't like where this conversation was going. "The Mediterranean countries have an abundance, which is why the German Federation is trying to take over as much as they can."

"England has, too." Alfred suddenly added. His tone was quite serious, and it felt a little unnatural to Arthur, but he supposed anyone could be serious about something if they really wanted to, even Alfred. "It's why they've isolated themselves. They don't want to share their Exitium."

Arthur couldn't pinpoint it, but it had almost sounded like Alfred blamed England for being selfish. Arthur had never really thought about his country's reasoning before, but it didn't really make a difference to him. Selfish or not, that monster of a leader had no right to take away his country's freedom from him.

England was his homeland and one of the only things that truly mattered to him. It pained him everyday that he was being forced to secure the walls of corruption that fortified his nation and blocked out its liberty. Arthur was slowly losing hope that one day this nightmare would end. He was starting to believe that it would last forever.

The sudden ringing of his phone then startled him and his troubled thoughts quickly got pushed aside as Arthur realigned himself back into reality. His hand brushed past the vibration coming from his left pocket, signaling that it was the phone of his second alias.

"Sorry," Arthur rushed to explain as he stood up from his seat. "but I have to go take this. I'll see you guys later."

Arthur didn't wait around for their goodbyes and quickly grabbed his belongings and left the room. As he hurried through the crowded hallways in search for a more private area, Arthur took out his phone and checked the caller id.

It was Francis Bonnefoy, one of his French partners at the DGSE. He found his way to an empty corner and then groaned at the prospect of having to answer the call.

"First I have to speak in an American accent and now I have to talk in bloody French?" Arthur muttered to himself as he put the phone to his ear. "This double life sucks. Bonjour?"

"Oliver?"

"Oui."

"It's Francis."

Arthur sighed as he listened to his comrade state the obvious. "Thank you for confirming that. I didn't trust the caller id."

"Oh?" Francis said. "You know, Oliver, you are a weird fellow."

Arthur closed his eyes as he sighed in annoyance once again. Would he ever find anyone else fluent in the language of sarcasm, or was it already on the path towards extinction?

"What are you calling about? I'm busy."

Arthur rolled his eyes as he heard the Frenchman sigh at his business like attitude. "Always so serious. Do you ever take a break?"

"Will you just get to the point already?" Arthur demanded, though he managed to keep his voice low enough to prevent any attention. "I know you didn't just call to chat."

"Very well, then." Francis said, not even bothering to hide the reluctance in his voice. "It seems like I could never win with you, Oliver. I'm calling on behalf of the DGSE. They want you to drop your mission."

Francis' words almost made Arthur drop his phone. "What?!"

"Relax, it's only temporary!" Francis said frantically. "They have something more important that needs to be dealt with."

"And what would that be?" Arthur asked as he tried his best to hide the desperation in his voice. He didn't want Francis seeing that his current mission meant a lot more to him than it should.

"I can't tell you that over the phone." Francis explained. "Meet me and Antonio tonight at eight o'clock by the abandoned warehouse on the corner of third and twenty-fifth street."

"Antonio's going to be there too?" Arthur asked, this time forgetting to keep his voice down. "Are you telling me this isn't a solo job? And when did you to get to America?"

"So many questions." Francis said. Arthur knew he was just trying to annoy him now. "Yes, you'll be working with Antonio and myself on this assignment and there's nothing you can do to get out of it. Whatever work you're doing now will be put on hold."

Arthur didn't like the sound of this at all, for it could ruin his real task at hand, but he remained quiet as Francis continued to answer his previous questions.

"And don't forget, Oliver," Francis said with amusement in his voice. "I have missions of my own too, so why is it so surprising that my work might have found its way to the US as well? As for Antonio, he's arriving some time this afternoon."

As much as he hated to admit it, Francis was right. It wasn't that impossible for Francis to be in the US working undercover.

"Fine, I'll be there."

"Good. We'll see you then." Francis said. "Au revior!"

Arthur hung up the phone as he walked back into the crowded hallways of the school campus. His mind was racing as he tried to think of ideas for what the DGSE could possibly find more important than trying to get rid of the American spy infiltrating their government, but he couldn't come up with anything logical. It seemed like he would just have to wait until meeting with Francis and Antonio.

"Hey, Arthur!"

Arthur froze in his tracks as he heard a familiar voice call his name from behind him. He quickly turned around to see Matthew Williams, his other partner at the CIA, hurrying towards him.

"I was looking all over for you." The Canadian said through his panting. "It's too crowded to talk to you here."

Arthur then watched with a confused expression as Matthew pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to him.

"Here, get rid of it when you're done."

Arthur stared at the folded paper in his hands and then looked up at Matthew for an explanation, but the secret agent had already disappeared.

Arthur sighed as he once again made his way to a less crowded area. Once he obtained some privacy, he unfolded the note and read through its contents.

_Meeting at CIA headquarters with you, me, and Alfred. Some emergency mission or something. Be there at 4 pm._

Arthur read through it a second time just to see if he missed something, and after confirming he hadn't, he began to rip the paper into shreds as he wondered to himself why he ever became a spy in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try to update this every Saturday. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> -britishsconesahoy


	3. Chapter 3

He arrived to an empty room. His watch was quite certain that it was just two minutes to four, but maybe everyone else's said differently. Whatever the reason, he entered the unoccupied meeting room and closed the door behind him. The latecomers could open it themselves.

Arthur made his way around the small, round table, his fingers gliding across the glass tabletop as he headed towards one of the chairs on the other side. As he sat down, his green eyes traveled towards the large window beside him, giving him a clear view of the street down below from the third floor meeting room.

_So this is what freedom looks like_. Arthur thought to himself as he gazed at the cars and people littering the road, each unaware of the jealous stares they were receiving from above.

It made Arthur a bit uneasy to think that he had almost forgotten how things used to be. Was there really a time when his precious England resembled the scene below him?

It was almost impossible now for him to imagine a street without soldiers or tanks rumbling through it.

A street of rubble or destroyed buildings with no signs of reconstruction in their future.

A street full of darkness, as if the sun's rays had just given up in trying to reach it.

He could have stared at it all day, fueling his hopes and dreams for the future with the captivating scene below him that emulated his image of a brighter and better world. He  _would_  have stared at it all day, but fortunately unexpected interruptions existed in order to prevent those useless activities he would have wasted so much of his time doing.

"Looks like we're only five minutes late, Mattie!"

Arthur turned his gaze away from the window and refocused it on his two comrades who had just led themselves into the room followed by a vaguely familiar CIA official who Arthur had probably met before somewhere. His name, however, had been completely erased from Arthur's memory.

"Yeah." Matthew responded to the American's comment as he took a seat beside Arthur. "Hi, Arthur. I see you're on time, as usual."

Arthur replied with a quiet greeting as he snuck a glance at Matthew's watch. It reported the same time as his own, so why the late arrival? Was life really that free here that coming after the designated time was commonplace? Was it really possible for people to act that freely?

"So, Lars, are you gonna tell us what this is all about?" Alfred asked the CIA official as he took his seat at the glass table.

Lars, that's what his name was. A Dutchman, if his memory served him correctly. A refugee from the now German Federation occupied Netherlands? Perhaps, but who was he, a double agent employed by a third party, to make assumptions like that?

"Yes, though I'm going to try to make this brief." Lars answered in an all business-like tone, completely opposite the enthusiastic voice Alfred had used to ask his question. "We've assigned you three as a team for this mission because we believe this might be a bit of a difficult task."

Difficult or not, Arthur knew he could complete it without outside assistance, as no mission he took on would be left unaccomplished. It seemed that the CIA, however, did not share that philosophy of his.

"This is an assassination mission."

Assassination. What a fancy word for such a dirty job. One would think that these kind of missions only happened in tyrannical governments and fictional worlds, but surprisingly, the civilized world still seemed to revert to these methods when the situation deemed dire enough.

"Assassination?"

Arthur glanced slightly at Matthew, who had just questioned the mission at hand. His face had paled significantly, almost to the point of matching the bare, white walls that surrounded them. Judging from the uncertain look on his face, Arthur could only assume that he was quite unfamiliar with the word he had spoken.

"Yes, an assassination." Lars repeated, completely missing the uncertainty laced in Matthew's voice when he had spoken. "There's a man who is a threat to one of our current operations, and we need to get him out of the way."

Alfred was about to say something, but had to hold back when Lars began to speak again. Arthur could have sworn, however, that Lars had only done it because he noticed Alfred's intention as well. It seemed like he wasn't the only one who found the friend collector annoying.

"We have very little information on him. All we know is his name and nationality."

"But why is he such a threat?" Matthew interrupted.

Was he that uncomfortable with this whole assassination idea that he had to make sure it was justified? If so, then why was he, a strong opposer of unjustified and unworthy actions, not bothered in the slightest by this inhumane and cruel assignment? Why wasn't he so adamant in finding out the reasoning behind this chosen method?

"He's a threat because he somehow knows about a spy we have infiltrating the French government, and he's giving away information on him."

Their target was a Frenchman who's ratting out an American spy in the French government? That profile sounded way too familiar to Arthur. He didn't fully allow his fear to develop, but one could never be too sure.

"Wait, I thought we were allies with France." Alfred asked. "Why would we be spying on them?"

It was a valid question. It was what his own government wanted to know as well. Despite how unwilling he was to take part in this mission, Arthur was at least now somewhat grateful that it would provide him with some more information for his power hungry superiors.

"We are allies with the French," Lars clarified. "though only on a surface level. Like France, our official view of the current world politics stand as against the grab for Exitium, as well as declared at war with any nations reverting to dictatorship and invading other independent states as a means to gain access to more levels of Exitium.

"However, that is all mostly a cover story. While it is true that the US is against dictatorship, our government is very keen on the idea of acquiring more Exitium, as the amounts found in our territory are nowhere near the vast amounts found in other parts of the world. That being said, our government has found it ideal to take over another nation that has more Exitium."

Had he just heard right? The noise of the cars outside had gotten quieter, so maybe his hearing was just going?

No, a quick glance out the window assured him that there were just less vehicles on the street, so did that mean what he heard was indeed correct?

"So, how does this connect to the spy we have in France?" Matthew asked.

Arthur paused his incoming thoughts for a moment so he could hear clearly what Lars was about to answer.

"Currently, we are working with France on a military takeover of England, a dictatorship that has plenty of Exitium. Our goal is to free and liberate England of its tyrannical rule, but our ulterior motive is to take over the country for ourselves, thus giving us access to the Exitium lying beneath their soil."

Had time just stopped? Arthur felt frozen in his place, even the noise around him ceased. None of his present surroundings were registering, as if all the sensory information had been cut off from his brain.

All he could process was the news he had just heard. Until now, he had viewed the world in just two colors, black and white. His country, England, belonged in the darker category along with other such dictatorships, like the German Federation and West China. These were the corrupt, the monsters that had abused their power and were now unfit for their positions as leaders.

The white countries represented the democratic and free, like the US, France, East China, and surprisingly, even Russia thanks to the third world war. These were the nations he had been depending on to fix the world and return the freedom his country had lost.

But this new information contradicted his world outlook. If this were true, then that meant the world was just painted black. White was nonexistent in this truly dark world.

Everyone was corrupt. Everyone was a monster. The ones he had placed his hope in had betrayed him. They weren't going to paint the world white again, they were just going to make it darker by adding their own corruption and greed to the mix.

He was completely helpless, all his hopes and dreams had nothing to support them. He truly couldn't trust anyone. What side could he root for now?

"So that's why we have a spy in France?" Matthew asked. "To make sure they don't ruin our plans?"

"Yes." Lars replied. "But our spy in Paris is having some trouble because of this Frenchman who somehow found him out."

"You said you have his name." Alfred said. "Care to tell us?"

A mix of thoughts, worries, and fears raced through Arthur's mind so fast that he could barely keep up with all of them. He tried to maintain the neutral expression on his face, but he found it difficult with all the confusion flooding his brain. He tried to keep himself focused by staring at the wall, but its bare, white color just made him wish his mind could be like that: bare, white, and empty.

"Yes, like I said earlier, we only have his name." Lars said. "That's why this mission might be a bit difficult. His name is Oliver Langlais."

Oliver Langlais? As in his French alias? No, the world couldn't be that black. They weren't forcing him to kill himself.

"Your mission is to kill Oliver Langlais."

Alright, so maybe they were. This dark, corrupt world was asking him to assassinate himself, nothing he couldn't handle.

_Damn it, Arthur, get a hold of yourself._  Arthur thought as he resisted the urge to run away from all this madness.  _What am I going to do? I can't just bail, but I can't fulfill it either. And what in bloody hell am I supposed to tell them back home?_

"We're expecting you three to accomplish this mission for us." Lars said as he began to rise from his seat. "You should start as soon as possible. Good luck."

Lars then left the room, while Arthur remained frozen in his seat. He knew what he heard and he knew that it was true, but he just didn't know how to process it. Was he supposed to report it to the MI6 and rely on them to figure out his next course of action, or was he supposed to deal with this himself?

He had to think this through, but it couldn't be here with Alfred and Matthew. Chances are they would start discussing the mission any moment now, and Arthur did not want to be a part of that. He had to get out of there.

"Well, I definitely wasn't expecting that." Arthur said calmly as he stood up from his chair. "I'm kind of in a hurry, so I guess I'll be seeing you guys tomorrow. Bye."

Arthur didn't even wait for a response as he hurried out of the room, his hands fidgeting and his mind spinning. And even though he could barely think straight with all those waves of thoughts flooding his head, he knew that he had to get home to some privacy. He just had to sort out his mind.

* * *

Alfred watched as Arthur hurriedly left the room, leaving him alone with Matthew. Had he just been hallucinating, or had Arthur really seemed anxious? He couldn't exactly tell, but there was definitely something different about his most recent behavior. He was usually so calm and collected, so what had happened?

"Hey, Alfred," Matthew said while staring at the now vacant chair by the window. "is it just me, or did Arthur look a bit uncomfortable towards the end of the meeting?"

"No, I noticed it too." Alfred said, relieved that he wasn't the only one. "Though, I have to admit that I'm not exactly sure since that guy is so hard to read. Like, seriously, he doesn't even believe in friendship. It's like he doesn't want us to know him."

"Maybe he doesn't." Matthew suggested.

But why? Alfred just couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Arthur was afraid of being friends with him. What was he so scared of? He had told Alfred earlier about that whole trust deal, but did that really mean anything? That couldn't be all of it, right?

Maybe it was him? Did Arthur dislike him? Alfred knew he could sometimes come off as a bit irritating, especially when it came to a matter of friendship, but was it really that bad?

"Matthew, do you think Arthur doesn't like me?" Alfred asked as he walked over to the window and looked down below.

As he waited for Matthew's answer, Alfred watched as cars and people passed through the street below, each one minding their own business and going about their daily lives. He found it amusing, however, that not one of them was aware of how brainwashed they were.

They thought they had freedom, they thought they were living in the light. They were all blinded and couldn't see just how corrupt their leaders were. They thought their country was doing the right thing.

"I don't think he dislikes you, Alfred." Matthew replied with an amused smile. "I think he just takes his work too seriously. I wouldn't think much of it if I were you."

Of course he would say that. As much as Alfred liked having Matthew as a friend, he wasn't really that helpful when it came to advice. It was like he knew what you wanted to hear, and was willing to give you that even if it wasn't the truth.

Arthur was definitely hiding something, and Alfred knew it. But then again, didn't everyone have secrets?

Everyone had secrets, and Alfred respected that. But he also believed that secrets didn't have to stay hidden forever. As long as you had someone you trusted, secrets could be revealed.

But Arthur didn't believe that. He seemed so certain that no one could be trusted. He firmly believed that his trust could betray him.

But why? There must have been something that formed that belief. Could it be an incident from his past? Possibly, but Alfred would probably never be able to find out. It frustrated him, he wanted to know who Arthur Kirkland was. Why did he join the CIA and why was he so focused on his job?

Alfred wanted to disprove his theory on trust. He wanted to show him that friendship went beyond fun and games. Friendship could have a deeper meaning, but in order to get to that, you had to offer your trust.

Friendship was built on trust, and without it, the relationship was bound to collapse.

It was because of that reason that Alfred didn't understand why Arthur was so skeptical when he had asked to be friends because after all, why would he want to take the time to build something that would only end up getting demolished?


	4. Chapter 4

His pant legs became more soaked with every step his hurried feet took as they splashed in puddle after puddle, rain pouring heavily from the darkened sky. Water dripped down from his entire body, but Arthur didn't care. He just kept running, running from the CIA, running from Alfred and Matthew, running from his mission. He was running from a life he didn't want to live, but he knew it was pointless.

He couldn't outrun it.

He didn't want to accept it, but the reality was that he wasn't in control anymore. His life was now in the hands of another, someone more powerful than he could ever imagine to be. He was just a pawn in someone else's game, a game that he didn't want to play. He didn't want any part in the world leaders' quests for global domination because although they may have started on that road with good intentions, that road was a one way street towards corruption, and there was no turning back.

Arthur came to a stop as he approached the apartment building his American alias called home. The rain continued to pound on him almost to the point where Arthur thought the force of the rain could actually kill him.  _That wouldn't be all that bad, though._  He thought as he climbed the wet stairs and opened the door to the building _. At least my mission would be complete._

Arthur entered the building and headed towards his apartment. The voice in his head kept telling him that everything would be fine once he got home, as if the problems with his mission would suddenly disappear and he miraculously wouldn't have to kill his alias anymore. It didn't make much sense, but did anything now?

Arthur took out his key as he came to his door. He put it in the lock but then froze as he heard a door open behind. Placing the key back in his pocket, Arthur put a smile on his face and turned around.

"Hi, Kiku. How are you today?"

The young Japanese man stood in his open doorway, his eyes scanning Arthur's disheveled appearance. "I'm alright." He said in that quiet tone of his. "Is it that bad out?"

"Oh, yes it is." Arthur said as he looked down at his drenched attire. "You may want to take an umbrella with you."

"I think I will." Kiku said. "I haven't seen you around for the past few days. Is school really that busy now?"

_He's referring to my trip to England,_  Arthur thought _. I was going to make up another excuse but his sounds reasonable enough._  "You could say that. I guess I may have been working myself a bit too hard the last few days."

Kiku smiled. "Well, good luck with your schoolwork then. I'll see you around, Arthur."

"Yeah, see you."

As soon as Kiku turned away, Arthur pulled out his key again and unlocked his door, quickly stepping inside and shutting it behind him. If there was one thing that bothered him more than overly friendly coworkers it was nosy neighbors. He really shouldn't have been complaining though, Kiku was a lot more tolerable than most people he had to live near in previous assignments. He was only doing the bare minimum of what was required of good neighbors, so Arthur couldn't really blame him.

Sighing, Arthur sat down by the window overlooking the street below as the rain continued to pour. He was finally home, yet his problems were still present. He still had to kill his alias, so basically himself. And if that wasn't enough, he now had to somehow deal with the fact that the whole world was evil. The ones he had put his trust in, his hope, his reason for continuing on, they betrayed him. What was there to fight for now? Should he even try?

The phone in his right pocket vibrated. Arthur pulled it out and cringed as his scanned the caller id. Matthew Williams was calling. Should he answer it?

Arthur held the phone in his hand, his gaze glued to the name on the screen. Ignoring it now wouldn't really solve anything, as he'd just have to talk to him later. "Hello?"

"Arthur? It's Matthew."

"I know."

"Right, anyway, I'm just calling about earlier. Is everything okay? You kind of ran out of that meeting pretty quickly, no?"

_Does he really think I'd reveal that information to him? Surely, you know better than that, Matthew._  "Everything is fine. I just had to take care of something."

"If you say so. It's just that we weren't really able to discuss anything regarding the assignment. I actually had an idea."

Arthur noticed the rain had stopped. "Oh, really? Can you share it over the phone?"

"Our target, Oliver Langlais, he works for the DGSE, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I know this is actually private information, but the mission I was hired for prior to this sudden assignment gives me access to the DGSE. I was thinking that I may able to obtain his files."

Arthur frowned. That plan was no good. "Wouldn't you have to go to Paris for that?"

"Yeah, but that's probably where we'd find him anyway."

"I wouldn't be so sure." Arthur said as he looked out his window, the American scenery within his view. "If he's a spy like they think he is then there's a very big chance he is not in the location of his origins. For all we know he could be anywhere, even right here. And besides, I happen to have access to the DGSE as well due to my current job before this, and I can get those files a whole lot faster than you can."

"Oh, well that's even better then. When will you have them by?"

"We all have class tomorrow, correct?" Arthur asked as he turned on his computer. "I'll have them by then."

"Great! I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yeah, bye."

Arthur quickly hung up the phone and focused on the computer screen in front of him. If he could access his DGSE files, then he could lead the way of their investigation. All he had to do was change a few things and he'd then be able to lead Alfred and Matthew astray. He had an advantage here, unknown to his three employers this all gave him the upperhand.

_If they're all playing against the rules then why can't I?_  Arthur thought as he printed the file on Oliver Langlais.  _With this position I may be able to manipulate the CIA, if done right, of course._

**DGSE: Agent Profile**

**PERSONAL DETAILS:**

AGENT NAME:  _Francis Bonnefoy_

ALIAS(ES):  _Oliver Langlais_

D.O.B:  _11/16/1995_

NATIONALITY:  _French_

OCCUPATION:  _Businessman_

MARITAL STATUS:  _Unmarried_

CHILDREN:  _None_

GENDER:  _Male_

LANGUAGE(S):  _French, English_

**CONTACT DETAILS** :

TELEPHONE: _+33 1 22 48 32 06_

POSTAL:  _27 Rue de l'Ermitage_

_75020 Paris_

_France_

**DESCRIPTION/PERSONAL TRAITS:**

AGE: 32

LATERALITY:  _Right_

HEIGHT:  _175 cm_

WEIGHT:  _74 kg_

VISION:  _20/20_

EYE COLOR:  _Blue_

HAIR COLOR:  _Blonde_

BLOOD TYPE:  _AB_

He had to take away all evidence that Oliver Langlais was really him, so he needed to use someone else's physical details. There was no real reason he chose Francis, he just happened to be the first to come to mind. If Francis got caught in his place then so be it. He would take that chance if it meant he could change things for the better.

He could rid the world of its injustice. Someone needed to cleanse it of its corruption, but that meant that the someone couldn't be corrupt themselves. He was the only one, it was all up to him.

With a new determination, Arthur picked up the file and the photograph of Francis he had printed. Tomorrow he'd show them to Alfred and Matthew, and thus initiate the beginning of a brighter world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is appreciated. 
> 
> -britishsconesahoy


	5. Chapter 5

The abandoned warehouse at the corner of third and twenty-fifth street was easy to miss if one wasn't looking for it. The glow of the street lamps didn't reach this little corner and the moon's light just wasn't enough to compensate for it. As a result, the warehouse lay in almost total darkness on that chilly, April night. The tall shadows of the buildings lining the small street loomed over the abandoned building, blocking any potential light source from shining upon it. Most people were deterred from turning down this corner due to its darkness at night, yet even during the day it was a rarity to see any lifeform down this narrow street as it only led to a dead end.

_A perfect meeting place for secret agents._  Arthur thought as he stood in front of the building's rusty doors with its splintering wood and its peeling blue paint.  _Right out of a spy movie._

A hand was suddenly placed on his shoulder and without any hesitation Arthur whipped around, his gun in his hand and aimed at his assumed assailant.

"Francis!" Arthur shouted in a whisper as his panicked green eyes met the familiar Frenchman's blue ones. "What are you doing?"

"Simply getting your attention, Oliver." Francis replied, smiling amusingly at his partner's reaction. "Now will you please lower your gun? I'm not too fond of an ally of mine pointing a weapon at me."

Arthur glared at him, reluctantly lowering his hand and placing the gun back in his jacket. "Well, excuse me for being cautious. Where's Antonio?"

Francis stepped aside and turned around to face twenty-fifth street, giving Arthur a clear view of the darkly dressed figure making his way across the road towards their abandoned meeting place. He looked around himself cautiously, making sure no one was watching him as he neared his fellow co-workers.

"Looks like you made it." Francis greeted Antonio as he approached them.

"Yes, I did." The Spaniard said with a smile. It looked so genuine and natural on his tanned face, making Arthur wonder how constructed it really was. "Good to see you again, Francis. Hello, Arthur. It's been a while since we last met, hasn't it?"

"Yes and with good reason." Arthur replied with a scowl on his face. "Shouting my name in a public place like that while in the middle of a infiltration mission and almost blowing my cover isn't really a recommended method of getting on my good side."

"Alright, introductions are over." Francis said, stepping in between the two. "I believe we have some important things to discuss. Follow me."

Francis turned around and started heading away from the darkened warehouse and towards the dimly lit street at the corner, Antonio following behind him.

"Wait a minute!" Arthur said, causing the two to freeze. "I thought we were meeting here."

Francis glanced back at Arthur, his gaze following his finger pointed at the abandoned warehouse. "Oliver, mon ami, we're meeting at that crowded French restaurant down the street. This was just a decoy in case anyone was tapping our call. Seriously Oliver, did you really believe I would choose such an obvious place to meet? We're not in some spy movie."

"You just knew I wouldn't come if you told me we were meeting at  _French_  restaurant." Arthur muttered as he hurried to catch up with them.

Antonio laughed as they stepped into the light casted down from the street lamps. "I don't get it, Oliver. You're French, yet you despite French food. What's up with that?"

_I don't know, maybe because I'm English!_  That's what he wanted to say, but Arthur had quite the talent for holding back his words. "I don't see any problem with it."

"You don't like paella, Antonio." Francis said, opening the door to the busy restaurant. "And that's like the epitome of Spanish cuisine, isn't it?"

Antonio rolled his eyes. "Alright, forget I said anything."

Arthur grimaced as they entered the crowded restaurant. He could feel his discomfort levels rising as he surveyed the packed tables and their noisy occupants. He knew places like these were always better suited for a secret meeting rather than abandoned buildings, but he couldn't help but feel a bit paranoid at all the possible opportunities for unintentional eavesdropping.

"Oh, and for this meeting I changed the codenames." Francis whispered as they headed towards a vacant table at the back. "France is Dr. Bonnefoy. The US is Dr. Jones and England is the patient."

"You're joking, right?" Arthur asked as they sat down. "What's wrong with the old ones? And why are they so weird?"

"I have to agree with Oliver, Francis." Antonio said. "What could you possibly imply with that?"

"Will you two relax? I know what I'm doing. Now be quiet because the waiter is coming."

Arthur narrowed his eyes as Francis picked up a menu. "Wait, we're actually eating?"

Francis smirked. "Of course we are. Don't worry, I'm paying."

Antonio opened his menu. "Well if that's the case, I'm going all out."

Arthur groaned and opened his menu as the waiter approached their table. His eyes skimmed the options, though nothing really seemed appetizing.

"Are you ready to order?"

"Yes." Francis said as he looked up from his menu. "I'd like the bœuf bourguignon, please."

"Not in the mood of some escargots, Francis?" Arthur muttered as he pretended to search his menu.

"No, I'm not." Francis replied, turning to Antonio. "What are you getting?"

"The same, please."

Arthur sighed as he placed his menu back down. "I'll just have the French onion soup."

"So boring." Francis muttered as the waiter collected their menus and walked away.

Arthur folded his arms and leaned back in his seat. "Well Francis, are you going to tell us about what this Dr. Bonnefoy did in the newest episode Antonio and I haven't had time to watch yet?"

"Do we really have to talk like this here?" Antonio asked. "We're in America, how many of these people do you think actually understand French anyway?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "We are in a French restaurant."

"Oliver's right." Francis agreed. "And besides, it's always best to be on the safe side. If there is someone listening who hasn't "watched" it yet, then we don't want to give them any spoilers."

Francis was having way too much fun with this, he always did when it came to spy talk. To Arthur, it was just a convenient way for transmitting private information from one party to another in a public setting and the more concise he could make it, the better.

"Just get on with it, Francis." Arthur mumbled.

"Alright, alright." Francis said. "Here's what happened. Dr. Bonnefoy and Dr. Jones were working together on this patient. The patient wasn't doing very good and the two doctors really wanted to cure him of his illness."

Arthur already knew this part; France and the US were working together to fight against England's corrupt government. He wasn't surprised Francis had used his own alias to represent France, but it amused him how he had chosen Jones for America. He most likely based it off the fact that it was one of the most common US surnames, but Arthur couldn't help but think of his American partner at the CIA. It was an interesting coincidence.

"So the two planned an emergency surgery." Francis said, hinting at the two governments' plan for a military takeover. "However, while it may seem that the two are headed towards the same goal, Dr. Bonnefoy actually has another motive. You see, this patient happens to be very wealthy and Dr. Bonnefoy is running low on cash."

Arthur narrowed his eyes as Francis continued his explanation. It sounded like France had a similar idea to what the US was secretly planning. England had a lot of Exitium, but surely the French government wasn't that corrupt. There was no way they were driving down the same road America had turned down. Arthur couldn't allow himself to believe that.

"Dr. Bonnefoy wants to kill the patient during the surgery and try to take the money for himself."

It really shouldn't have surprised him. He had already painted over America's color on his mental map, so how much trouble was it really to take out the black paint again? At this rate, he'd probably have to get some more buckets with this secret corruption trend.

"Dr. Bonnefoy sounds like one greedy man." Antonio said as the waiter came by and began to place their meals onto the table.

"There's just one problem." Francis said, turning to the waiter. "Merci."

The waiter smiled and then walked away.

"Oh, and what is that?" Arthur asked, curious as to how the situation could get any worse.

"Dr. Bonnefoy obviously has to keep this secret from Dr. Jones." Francis said as he pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. "But that's hard to do when a friend of Dr. Jones knows your plan."

Francis placed the paper on the table and waited as the two spies sitting across from him read it.

_All we know is his CIA alias, Arthur Kirkland. Our mission is to assassinate him._

He wanted to laugh, but that would probably sound suspicious. He had experienced many plot twists in his career as a secret agent, but this was by far the most treacherous. Two fake identities, both ordered to kill each other. It just didn't get more ridiculous than that.

When they were both finished reading it, Francis took it back and returned it to his pocket, probably intending to destroy it later. "That's it. Shall we eat now?"

As Francis and Antonio began to eat, Arthur looked down at his soup with a small smile. It did seem a bit more appetizing now and maybe he'd even enjoy it. As he picked up his spoon, he began to think of how beneficial this new assignment could be to his mission with Alfred and Matthew, his original missions for the CIA and the DGSE, and his mission for the MI6. He was part of the teams targeting his own made up characters. He had the advantage here, the upperhand. He could lead both these investigations down a path to further implement his own mission; taking down the English dictatorship. He could take down the world if he wanted to.

That finalized it then. He would take on the assignment of ridding the world of its corruption. He had the power now, he had the tools he needed to accomplish that feat. With this position, he wouldn't have to worry about leaving that mission unaccomplished. He would destroy the world and create it anew, for the better.

* * *

"Is it just me, or did his mood completely change after I briefed you two?" Francis asked his Spanish partner as they left the restaurant. Oliver had already went his separate way and it was the just the two of them now.

"Now that you mention it, it does seem like that." Antonio said. "I wonder why."

But Francis knew better than to pursue a notion like that. Even though he had known Oliver for a while now, the man was a difficult code to crack. Francis knew he had secrets, as that much was obvious, but then again didn't everyone?

"So you came here from Spain?" Francis asked, recieving a nod in return. "How are things going over there?"

Antonio sighed. "They're still equally divided with half supporting the German Federation and half fighting to keep their independence. Honestly, I don't think it'll ever be resolved."

"And what side are you on, Antonio?"

"Independence, obviously."

Of course, Francis already knew that. It was why Antonio had fled to France in the first place. Many Spaniards had done the same, afraid of being stuck in their country if the civil war ended with the less favourable side as the victor.

"What do you think of our government now, though?" Francis asked, curious of his opinion. "You came here because we supported your side fighting against the German Federation and their desire to take control of Spain's exitium supply. However, now you know that France is doing the same thing as the Germans just with England."

Antonio hesitated. "I despise them for it, however, I can't forget that France is helping our side fight against the German Federation. They helped the Italians too before the Germans won."

"But you know France is only doing that so they can get the exitium, right?"

Antonio stopped his walking and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Francis looked at him expectantly, waiting for the Spaniard to say something.

"I got to go." Antonio said, turning away. "See you around, Francis."

Francis stood still as he watched Antonio's retreating form. He hadn't really expected much of an answer from him. Like most people during these troubling times, it was hard to determine what one really wanted. No one knew what to believe and no one knew who to trust.

Antonio was only doing what every other indecisive person was doing; lying to themselves about false truths and contradicting beliefs in a desperate attempt to hold on to something, anything that gave them the closest to what they wanted to hear.

He wanted to believe France was helping his country, so he let himself ignore all the pieces that didn't fit into that belief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So things are getting more complicated now and England's Oliver Langlais alias is finally introduced along with Francis and Antonio!
> 
> Also, just want to quickly mention that I will be switching between Arthur/Oliver depending on the context and POV.
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter and I'd greatly appreciate hearing what you think :D Thanks for reading and have a super day!
> 
> -britishsconesahoy


	6. Chapter 6

_**London, England, UK** _

_**2020** _

_When the world cried, he wanted to cry._

_"One more year..."_

_London's downpour of sorrow only reminded him of his own._

_"...and I'll be free."_

_His feet hurried across the wet pavement, his footsteps creating a rhythm as they splashed through the puddles._

_"But what does it matter?"_

_The sky impaired his vision with its own flood of grief, its tears tampering with and weakening the glow of the street lamps which served as a guiding light amidst the night's darkness._

_"I don't have anywhere to go, anyway."_

_He wanted to join in with the world as it mourned. Its tears would hide his own._

_"I'm a nobody."_

_He'd share in London's grief._

_"No family."_

_Revel in its darkness._

_"No history."_

_Bask in its lonesomeness._

_"No name."_

_Rejoice he wasn't the only one lost._

_"No identity."_

_So as he sat down on that bench, drenched in the sky's cold and wet sorrow, he felt a foreign sense of familiarity. Like it was where he belonged. That dreadful orphanage seemed to take all those feelings away, but here, he could feel them as clear as day._

_Like the sun was shining and the downpour dissipated._

_And for a moment, it really felt like that._

_"Here, you look like you could use this."_

_His green eyes raised slightly, just enough so his hood still covered his face. And that's when he saw it, the source of his momentary comfort._

_An umbrella had been placed above him._

_"May I sit here?"_

_His nod was automatically generated. It didn't matter whether he wished for the bringer of the umbrella to sit there or not._

_"Merci. You can call me Francis."_

_He eyed the hand that was stretched out to him. His own hand, stuffed into his pocket, refused to budge._

_"Not a hand shaker, I see." Francis pulled his hand back into his jacket pocket. "Or a name giver, for that matter."_

_What was there to give? His real name was a mystery to him._

_"Not a talker either."_

_He had already decided not to entertain the stranger sitting next to him, but his voice seemed to have other ideas._

_"I don't have a name to give."_

_Francis' blue eyes didn't try to hide his surprise. "You don't know your name? How unfortunate! One's name is an integral part of one's very identity."_

_"Well, then maybe I don't have an identity."_

_It was a question he'd often ask himself, only now it wasn't rhetorical._

_"Nonsense! Everyone has an identity." Francis' free hand had emerged from his jacket pocket now, adding its gestures to the theatric tone in which he delivered his insight. "Surely, there must be something you identify with. Something you can call your own."_

_And as his mind yelled no, his eyes fell upon a Union Flag waving recklessly, back and forth in the rain and wind._

_"Believe it or not, I was once in a similar situation as to yourself." His hand had retreated back to his jacket again. "I didn't like who I was or what I was set to become. So I decided to change that. Become the man I wanted to be. I wasn't always Francis Bonnefoy, you know."_

_And as Francis stood up from the bench he pleaded with himself to ask him to sit back down, to tell him the whole story. But then, either luck was on his side, or Francis was a mind reader._

_"I became a spy. I took on a new identity, wholly different from my own. I became who I wanted to be." He then smiled and handed him the umbrella. "Here, keep this."_

_And as Francis walked away, blonde hair swaying in the wind, the world's sorrow seemed to resonate with him just a tad less._

* * *

_**Washington D.C. United States** _

_**May 2, 2028** _

_This isn't who I want to be_.

Arthur held Oliver Langlais' false files in his trembling hands, his gaze fixed on the agent's photograph. His green eyes were not met with his own, but rather the blue eyes of another. He was probably imagining it, but he could've sworn he saw that same look of surprise in them they had that night.

_Why am I doing this to you?_  The Francis in the picture didn't answer his rhetorical question this time.  _This isn't who I want to be._

Francis Bonnefoy was not his best friend. It was doubtful whether he was even a friend at all. Friendships were built on trust and that was something Arthur did not give away.

He could even go as far to say he hated his French partner. He was French, annoying, too dramatic, and did he mention  _French_?

But as far as he knew, the annoying, dramatic Frenchman was an innocent man, undeserving of the fate to which Arthur had so wrongfully subjected him.

Was it too late to ditch his initial plan? Maybe he could just tell Alfred and Matthew that he was unable to retrieve the files. Things like that happened, right? He could figure out a different way to lead them off course, preferably one that didn't involve framing annoying, yet innocent Frenchmen.

_Oh, great, here they come. So much for that idea._

"Hey, Arthur! Mattie told me you were able to infiltrate the DGSE and get this guy's info." Alfred freed the papers from Arthur's grasp, his eyes lighting up as he scanned the contents. "This is totally awesome, dude!"

"That's not what I said, Al-"

"Not sure I'd call it infiltration." Arthur tried to retrieve his alias' false files in a last attempt to cover up what he'd done, but it was futile as Alfred was already too engrossed in the misinformation.

"Check it out, Matthew!" Alfred threw the papers down on the table and dropped into a chair. "We're only two days in and we've already dug up a goldmine."

"More like  _I_  dug up a goldmine."

Matthew sat down and took his turn at looking at their target's files. If he was any bit as enthusiastic about it like Alfred was, then he didn't show it.

After taking a quick look, he picked up Francis' photograph. "It's just hard to think that we need to kill him."

_Would you say that if it was me you were looking at?_

"We can't question the job, Mattie." Alfred took the picture from him. "Don't think I've ever seen this guy before. What about you, Arthur?"

Francis was here, in Washington. He couldn't let them chance upon him. He needed to move the investigation out of the country.

"No, I can't say I have." He took the picture from Alfred. "But despite the wealth of information this gives us, I'd say we only have two leads if we want to keep suspicion at a low right now."

Matthew pointed to the phone number and home address written on the page. "You mean these?"

"Precisely." Arthur put the picture down and gestured to what Matthew was pointing to. "I went a step ahead yesterday and tried to track the location of his phone. While I couldn't pinpoint it exactly, I was able to narrow it down to Paris."

"So we're going to France?"

Alfred seemed to be on the right page, so his plan just might work.

"It sounds the most logical."  _Though it really isn't_. "I propose one of us stay here just in case."

"I can stay."

_Any chance to avoid having to murder. How typical of you, Matthew._

"Fine, then. Alfred, looks like we're going Paris together." Why did it sound so much more torturous when he said it out loud?

"Cool! When do we go?"

_We_?

He really needed to report back to London so he could give them some grand lie to stall for time. And just the thought of being stuck on a plane with Alfred for nine hours gave him air sickness.

_Why shouldn't two spies fly together?_  "You know, I think it's probably best if we fly separately. That way we won't arouse any suspicion."

"I have to agree with Arthur, Alfred."  _Thank you, Matthew!_  "I'd also suggest you leave on separate days."

"Always ruining our bonding time, Arthur."

"What? What bonding time? How many times do I have to tell you we're  _partners_ , not  _friends_?"

"Guys, can we please get back to business here?"

_Seriously, why is Alfred so adamant about this whole friendship thing?_  "I have some things to take care of tomorrow, so I'm afraid I won't be able to get to Paris until Saturday."

Matthew took out his phone. "I'll look up the earliest flights available."

"Guess that means I'm going first.  _Alone_."

Arthur didn't take Alfred's glare personally. He didn't owe him his friendship, his trust, or anything for that matter.

"There's a flight that leaves tonight that isn't completely booked yet." Matthew said. "You'll arrive by tomorrow."

"Alright, just book it."

_Well, that went a lot easier than I expected. Should probably get out of here before anything comes up._

"Oh, I almost forgot." Matthew said as Arthur stood up. "One of us has to go report back to Headquarters today. I won't be able to and Alfred has to catch this flight so can you please do that, Arthur?"

_It's probably better this way._

"Sure."

* * *

"I'm so glad you're back, Lukas." Tino placed the two cups of coffee on the table and took a seat across from his guest. "It just isn't the same without you."

Lukas took one of the cups and brought it to his mouth. "You overvalue me. Is my brother too much for you to handle? I know he can be a pain sometimes, or rather most of the time-"

"Emil is fine." He picked up his own cup and held it with both his hands, welcoming the warmth of the steam as it rose to greet him. "I don't think he likes this arrangement too much, though."

"He'll survive these last two months until he graduates."

"I'm sure he will." He took a sip of his coffee, wincing as it slightly burned his tongue. "And I'm sure he'll be a bit more happier now that you're here, even if it is just for a couple weeks."

Lukas shrugged and placed his cup back on the table. "I wouldn't count on it."

The Finnish exchange student was well aware of the tension that lie between the brothers. Ever since Lukas had made his decision two years back, the fire between them just continued to grow bigger as each one refused to acknowledge its presence, let alone its danger.

"Thanks again, Tino. For having him here while I'm away."

"It's not a problem. I"m happy to have him here, though I worry about you all the time, you know."

Lukas just shrugged again. "Why do you waste your time worrying about me?"

If he had any bit of a temper, he would have slammed his cup down on the table in response to Lukas' indifference towards how his absence affected him. "Because  _you_  don't!"

Lukas raised his eyebrows; his way of expressing shock. So maybe he  _did_  have some bit of a temper. Whatever the case, he was still one to immediately apologize.

"Lukas, I didn't mean it like that-"

"I know."

Did his expression change? Tino could never tell; Lukas was always a statue. His stoicism was a trait he shared with his younger brother, though Emil slipped up a few times.

Lukas was a mystery to him, rarely told anyone what he was thinking or doing and never gave any reasons for anything. Tino hated holding a grudge against people and he avoided it at all costs, but it really irked him that Lukas couldn't give him, or his own brother for that matter, a reason for what he was now doing.

"I just don't understand." He just didn't have the ability to comprehend why Lukas was so willing to put his life on the line. "Why, Lukas? Why did you join the military?"

"Tino, can we please not discuss this now."

_There he goes again, trying to dodge the question_. "Then when, Lukas? How long do we have to wait for an explanation? It's not fair. It's not-"

He stopped himself. He had this discussion before with someone else, with  _him_. He remembered where that conversation lead to and it pained him to think about it. He didn't want this to end the same way. It couldn't.

"Tino?"

He just had to make sense of it all.

"Lukas, can I ask you something?" The young soldier nodded, ignoring the sudden change of topic. "If someone close to you made a decision that is right for them but you don't agree with it, would you still support them?"

"Does this have to do with  _him_?"

"Can we keep it hypothetical?"

Lukas nodded. "I guess it depends on the reason for disagreement. If it's a matter of conflicting beliefs and ideals, then I don't think I'd support their decision."

"What if you disagree just because you're afraid. What if their decision involved risks that you don't want them to take?"

"In that case, the disagreement is for selfish reasons. You're allowing your heart to make the decision."

_He didn't even consider how I felt about it, so wasn't his own decision selfish?_

"What's wrong with following your heart?"

"I'm assuming the decision in your question is being made to fulfill someone's goal or purpose, which was probably created by the heart in the first place. Once that goal is set, you need to follow your brain when it comes to the decisions that will help to achieve that goal."

_Why couldn't he put himself first? Isn't living more important than any goal?_

"I don't understand."

"What I'm trying to say is that you need to follow both your heart and mind, it's just a question of when. By allowing your heart to interfere here, you're going to make it a lot harder for yourself to take on the risks that are needed to fulfill the goals your heart wants to pursue."

_Yet even after all that, he still failed. And who has to suffer from it?_

_Not him._

_Me._

"Tino? You okay?"

"Yeah." He stood up and clumsily gathered up the coffee cups. "I'm going to bed. Emil should be home soon if you want to wait up for him."

"Okay...hope that helped."

_For Emil's sake, Lukas, don't let what happened to me happen to him._

* * *

Arthur just wanted to go home, pretend he was some average guy living an average life, and act like the world wasn't out to kill him, literally.

Talking to Lars about their assassination plans reminded him of just how dangerous this situation could become if he were found out. His French alias was safe for now, but he still needed to come up with a plan for his American alias.

_Ring ring._

"Bonjour, Antonio."

"Oliver, good news! Francis just told me he has access to the CIA due to his former job and he might be able to get us some info on Arthur Kirkland. He's on his way to the CIA now. We'll be meeting tomorrow. I'll let you know the exact place later."

"What?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some new characters! Just as a sidenote, this fic is going to have a lot of characters with a lot of hidden connections that shall be revealed in due time.
> 
> As always, thank you all who are continuing to read this! Have a great weekend! 
> 
> -britishsconesahoy

**Author's Note:**

> This was the result of a lot of different fanfic ideas I had coming together into one giant, complex story, so be prepared! Also, the main reason I wrote this is because recently I've become obsessed with the negative character arc and was just dying to try it out myself. So yes, this is a story of an anti-hero. Just thought I'd warn you.
> 
> Also, just a few quick things to clarify about this AU so I don't get a million questions. First, this is set in the future after a war, so the world is different as well as the statuses of the countries. In this world, England is separate from the UK which is dismantled, and that's why there is now a Republic of England. The rest of the world will become known in future chapters.
> 
> There will be no pairings in this. No romance at all, just friendships, betrayals, allies, and enemies. I'm also trying to include as many characters as I can. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and feel free to leave feedback!
> 
> -britishsconesahoy


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